


The Red Bird Knight

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Intrigue, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6381127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansan Genre Writing Challenge - Fluff<br/>Event: Sandor takes part in the tournament being organised by Littlefinger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Bird Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Genre: Fluff (n.) Fanfic without angst; any pleasant, feel-good story. Fluff may lack plot; however, unlike a PWP the focus is not sex, but displays of affection between two or more characters, whether their relationship is romantic or not. It may also indicate a mood piece with warm, uplifting descriptions.  
> \--Fanlore.org

The cold wind felt pleasant on Alayne’s face. She sat next to her father, Lord Petyr Baelish, as the knights lined up to greet him and the other lords of the region. All were elegant, shining in their gorgeous armor, save for one on the end. His armor was dented, tarnished and the only color seen on him was a splash of red on his front, almost like a paint splatter, but it formed the shape of a descending bird, its talons outstretched to capture its prey. Harry was at the center of the group, his armor shining brightest of all. He waved courteously to her father and to her. Alayne granted him a small smile, though lacking her usual warmth. It was the man on the end, the tarnished knight, that received her full smile.

“Shall we guess on the winner of this tourney, sweetling? Who do you pick? I’ll even place ten gold dragons on the table, if you win. If you lose, I shall accept ten  _ proper _ kisses from you.”

“If it amuses you to do so, Father, I will play along, but please, you should pick first,” she said graciously. Baelish turned to study the knights as they made their way across the field to begin the tournament.

“Lothor Brune. He shall be the victor,” he declared.

“Not Harry?” she asked in surprise. “Should I be considering Lothor for a husband instead? Oh, Mya would be distraught with me.”

He chuckled, “Of course not, my dear. Harry is young and full of fighting spirit, but Lothor is experienced and this is merely a tournament. In war, Harry would be more likely to win.”

Alayne considered his words, but they did not make sense to her. Surely a man with more experience would be able to beat a young fighter, no matter how full of spirit he may be.

“Who do you choose, sweet Alayne?” he asked.

“I know little of the art of war, so forgive me, Father, I will pick on less scientific methods than yourself.”

“You would follow lady luck then?”

She shrugged. “I pick the one who’s sigil I find the most interesting. The Red Bird Knight is my choice. I’ll even go so far as to give him my favor, if you would allow me to do so.”

Petyr waved his hand at his daughter. The man was a beast, huge and gangly, while the other riders were shorter, but more agile. He had no fear the man would make it to even the second round. “Do as you wish. He looks like he could use all the help he can.” 

She bowed her head. “I will return shortly, Father.”

**********

Petyr frowned. The tarnished knight that wore his daughter’s favor was doing better than he expected. It was the second to last round, and Red Bird was up against Harry. Alayne cheered heartily as Red Bird knocked the Harry to the ground. The next semi-finalists were Lothor and Lyn Corbray. Alayne watched the match intently but with little interest, though she did cheer for Lothor.

“He is a better man than Corbray, and I earnestly hope he does win this match,” was all she said when he asked her about it. Sure enough, Lothor won, and a brief intermission was set before the final match. Alayne shot out of her seat to his dismay, and went over to Red Bird. The man barely noticed her, despite her animated talk to him. Petyr clenched his jaw as he saw her touch the man’s arm, though there was still no reaction from Red Bird. She raised her hand to cover a giggle over something the man must have said, then wiped a spot on his helm. The horn blew to signal the end of the intermission. 

When she returned to her seat, he asked her, “Do you know your champion, sweetling? You seem awfully familiar with him.”

“Of course not, Father, but I did promise him some of my winnings if he beats Lothor. I just wanted to give him a bit of pep talk, some cheer, that sort of thing. Was it wrong to do so?” she asked innocently.

He grimaced. “Of course not, my dear, but you must be careful. Some men would take your innocent nature and surely ruin it.”

“My protector wouldn’t let that happen,” she said, smiling brightly. The final match started, and Lothor came at Red Bird with everything he had, but in the end it was not enough. Lothor went flat on his back as every other man who had gone up against Red Bird had done that day. He and the other knights lined up and marched across the field to the cheers of the crowd. The tarnished knight said nothing as he accepted the tourney winnings. “He’s a mute, Father,” Alayne explained. “He came with the brothers of the Quiet Isle, though he himself is not a novice. Elder Brother was just telling me of him.” 

An older, bald man came forward, dressed in simple robes. “My lord, it is an honor. My comrade is a former soldier, beaten down in his life of servitude to a lord lesser than yourself. His spirits brightened when we heard of the tourney upon arriving here, and even more so when your lovely daughter graced him with her favor.”

“As he should be, my daughter is my pride and joy in life, and it is not just any man who can receive her favor,” Petyr said, though silently he cursed the troupe of brothers for their presence here. “There will be a feast in your honor, ser. You may sit with my daughter and myself, and be recognized by the entirety of the people here.”

“Father,” Alayne said gently, “The Red Bird does not wish to be in front of everyone. He…” she turned her head down, “he was horribly mangled from his last battle, the one that ended up leading him to the Elder Brother. He wears coverings from head to toe in order to hide himself from view. He is ashamed, Father. Please, allow him to sit where he feels most comfortable, and I will join him as consolation for not being able to sit on the dais. I am a bastard, after all, and no one will think it odd for me to seated below my noble father.”

He sighed. He could not win this argument, not in front of both Red Bird and the Elder Brother. “Very well. He should at least wear his armor, so that people will recognize him.

**********

“Who goes there?” Mya called out to the two figures approaching the gate. Most of the guards were up at the feast for the tourney, leaving Mya to her lonesome. Lothor had promised to come by later to keep her company, but that was hours away.

“Mya, it’s me.”

“Alayne? What in the world are you doing here?” she asked, letting her friend into the guard house.

“I’m running away. I have found my…” She looked shyly at the huge man next to her. Mya could barely tell what he looked like, he was covered from head to toe, the cowl of his hood shadowed his face, but he was even bigger than Lothor, which was saying something. Alayne seemed taken with him. “We’re running away. Father would not approve, even if I am a bastard. Please don’t tell him, or at least wait a while before you mention it.”

“What of Harry?” Mya asked, though she knew Alayne had no true interest in Harry the Arse.

“Randa is plying him with wine and praise, and she aims to be caught with him tonight, in order to force her father’s hand. I wish her the best,” Alayne said sweetly.

“Alayne...Where will you go?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Dorne, maybe Oldtown, maybe even one of the Free Cities. Anywhere we go, we will be together, and that is all that matters. Isn’t it, my love?” she asked the big man. He nodded and gripped her hand tighter.

Mya sighed. “Very well. There’s a merchant staying at the last gate, due to leave in the morning. If you hurry, you can catch up with him and journey with him as far as the nearest port. After that, he heads south to the capital, so you will have a choice of where to go. As far as your father is concerned, I haven’t seen you since before the tourney. Now go, and be happy.”

**********

They boarded the ship after a visit to the local godswood. Sansa had wanted to pray for a safe journey. 

A day after casting off, Sandor still lay on the bed in the cabin they had rented. His leg had been hurting from the journey and he was feeling every one of his years as his little wife brought him some watered down ale, though it was better than it had been the day before. By tomorrow, or the day after at the latest, he would be back to his usual limp and able to move comfortably around the ship. 

He was grateful to the Elder Brother for not only convincing him to make the journey to the Eyrie, but for also marrying them before they took off as the feast began. Another novice brother wore armor similar to the Red Bird knight, far away from the dais where Lord Littlefucker sat. It would have taken a while before they realized that “Alayne Stone” was missing, especially since her friends were covering for her, and even longer to realize the Red Bird knight was not who he said he was, if they even decided to look that far. 

She had known him as soon as she saw him, seeing past the exterior he had put up to protect himself. Only his little bird could do that. She had convinced him to enter the tourney, believed that he would win, and even won them an extra ten gold dragons for their escape. Two gold dragons covered the cost of the cabin and the passage across the Narrow Sea to Braavos for a month or two, and then on to Oldtown. The captain was a kind man who said Sansa reminded him of his daughter. 

“Do you think Baelish has realized the Red Bird knight stole away his ‘precious bastard daughter’?” she asked him as she lay down next to him.

“Possibly. Though by all accounts, ‘Alayne’ went missing long before the Red Bird knight did,” he said, coaxing a kiss from her.

“Do you think he will know that it was Sansa Clegane that sent those letters to the Lords Declarant, telling them where to find evidence of his subterfuge and give them reason to overthrow his rule of the Vale?” she asked sweetly.

“Did you sign the letters?”

“I signed Lady S. Clegane to each letter,” she said proudly. He chuckled.

“Then there’s a small chance, but it is miniscule at best,” he whispered, nibbling her ear. She moaned a little.

“Well, I hope he does realize it was me,” she said softly. “Now, that is the last we will speak of him, husband.” She took charge and kissed him soundly. “No matter where we end up, I have faith that we will be alright.”

“And why is that, little bird?” he asked with a grin.

“Because we are together,” she said.


End file.
